True Terror
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: The Dark Lord's conquest of the Ministry should have meant that Pansy was set for the perfect life as a member of the ruling class. However, a set of circumstances cause her to attempt to flee. Draco/Pansy


**A/N:** Written for the reverseathon exchange at livejournal.

)o(

Pansy's low set cheekbones were flushed red with exhaustion and stress as her eyes that were bordered by smudged makeup focused on the crowds gathered around the marble steps of Gringotts. She knew she should not be worried; at the moment no one was searching for her, but she could not help herself.

Having convinced herself that no one was going to suddenly seize her, both of her hands slid into the pockets of her tight robes to clutch the objects within; her wand and a pouch, which carried a large percentage of the Parkinson's vault.

It was now hers.

Her thick lashes blinked quickly to stop tears escaping, as she slowly walked down the marble stairs.

Her mother and father were dead.

The Parkinsons were admittedly not the most powerful pureblood family, but their blood was pure and they supported the Dark Lord's cause. They had celebrated when he had conquered the Ministry and killed the Potter brat.

But, it had not been enough.

Like every other pureblood family, as the head, her father had been summoned by the Dark Lord and had been ordered to take the mark.

He had refused. He had barely got the words out of his mouth before a jet of green light had struck him.

So simple. So tragic.

She could not stay any more. Her mother had wasted away and Pansy feared retribution. She could not take the mark. Sure she followed the Dark Lord, but she feared if she became a Death Eater she could be killed in a battle or the Dark Lord might sense her hatred and kill her himself.

Pansy had never had much talent in defensive magic. It was not her job to defend herself. That was the job of men. It was why she was meant to marry a pureblood heir.

It had been the first time she had not focused on her desire for matrimony and the man she wanted to be her future husband.

She just wanted to flee. She wanted to use the money in her robes to start a new life in Paris. She knew that it might not have been enough to live comfortably for as long as she would have liked, but a pretty British pureblood would eventually attract a husband.

She forced herself to smile despite the image of a familiar blonde entering her mind as she stepped onto the cobbled street.

Before she even took the next step, she suddenly felt something like a hard punch hit her back.

)o(

As she started to waken, sensations ripped through her mind. Her head was resting on hard cold stone that chilled her body while her nose was filled with mildew and something foul that made her gag. Despite never smelling anything like it before she knew what the scent was; death.

The thought was enough to make her panic as she opened her eyes. There was not much to see; only endless darkness and the faintest flicker of four walls. She lifted herself into a seated position. Her body was stiff and sore but, other than that, she appeared to be unharmed. It was not enough to make her calm down when she could not feel her wand in her pocket.

Resisting the urge to curse and scream, she slowly found her feet. Her legs swayed around as she held onto the wall. The slime under her fingers almost made her want to choke and question how it would damage her nails as she slowly circled the area.

Her original assumption was correct; there was nothing. There were only four walls, a set of wrought iron chains and a hard wooden door. Hesitantly she approached it, but even when her hands closed around the cool handle and she pulled back with all her limited strength, it did nothing but make her arms ache.

Letting out a half gasp and sob, she allowed herself to fall back onto her haunches and bury her head in her hands. Tears did not leave her eyes, but it was a difficult thing to stop with the knowledge of her failure.

She had been caught.

She hoped she could avoid the true punishment and try and argue that she was not running or turning traitor, yet, if her captors were the Death Eaters, it would be difficult. However, she would have to try.

She was too young to die.

)o(

Alone, with limited light and with no knowledge of the outside world, Pansy had no idea how long she remained curled in the sickening room lost in her thoughts and worries. To her it felt like days, but it was only hours when the door in front of her opened.

The unexpected sound and movement took her by surprise (and) she shrieked softly and almost fell onto her back. The black robed figures attracted her notice as one by one they slowly entered the cramped room.

However, her eyes were quickly drawn to one man, if such a term could be used to describe him. She could not help but let out a stifled gasp before she quickly averted her eyes upon realisation of who he was. She had never seen him before. She had only ever seen his picture on the rare occasion she glanced at the Prophet when he was making a speech as Minister of Magic, but his face was memorable; pure white skin like a mask, a flat snake like nose and blood red eyes with pupils like cats eyes.

Despite herself Pansy felt her thin frame tremble as she unconsciously curled within herself as she begged for this to be a dream. The Dark Lord could not be in front of her. The Dark Lord could not be entering her prison.

She was too young to die.

Still staring at the stone floor, her ears were on edge for even the smallest noise as she heard the faint sound of cloth brushing against the floor. It grew closer and eventually she saw the wisps of loose black robes. She could not help but lean away with the small amount her frozen body was able to move.

"I am quite sad, Miss Parkinson. You do not seem pleased by my presence." A high cold voice said from a tall height above her. It sent shivers down her spine and he seemed vaguely amused. Pansy still did not look up.

"Look at me."

There was so much authority and demand in the order. It screamed at her to obey, but the fear was too strong and she could not lift her head that was held down with by raw terror.

"Please," she whimpered softly. "Please don't."

She did not know exactly what she was saying, but she was terrified and found her mouth moving on its own accord.

The Dark Lord only laughed. There was not an inch of humour or any kind of mercy. It was only the sound you would hear in a nightmare. "_Look _at me." The volume of his voice only increased slightly, though the emphasis made her whimper. She wanted to resist, but somehow it felt like a hand was under her neck and forcing her up until her eyes were locked onto the Dark Lord's. "Good girl."

He was smiling. It was not pleasant. It was deeply terrifying and disturbing. She wished she could even turn her gaze so she would not have to look at the blood red irises. Maybe she might know the Death Eaters in the corner. One could be Draco. The friend she had been so close to for eight years and a lover for three of those. She might have tried to stay with him, but she had witnessed him growing distant and she had assumed that he would never choose her over his family. Now she wished that he was here. Just his presence would have smothered her petrified mind.

Pansy did not notice the way the Dark Lord's gaze intensified as she thought about Draco or the way his smile increased slightly, the only thing she noticed was when the magical grip on her jaw disappeared and she was able to stare at the floor.

"I think that will be all for now, Miss Parkinson." The words seemed so strange and so wonderful Pansy thought for a moment she had misheard until she heard footsteps move away from her. "Do not worry. I will be back."

)o(

Despite being a Death Eater for two years, the burn on his arm signalling the call of his master produced nothing less than utter terror. He would have preferred to ignore it, despite the pain, but he knew he could not, so he obediently did what he was required to do and set off to respond to the call.

Malfoy Manor had always been his home. As a boy it had been the place where he had been taught all of life's lessons and it had been a constant source of pleasure and comfort. It was no longer the case. The Death Eaters and the Dark Lord resided within the walls created a constant sense of uneasiness to linger. It did mean appearing by his side was simple, but Draco longed for the moment when the Dark Lord would move onto his own accommodations, now he was Minister.

Stopping before the engraved mahogany door that had previously been the formal sitting room his parents had used for entertaining guests, Draco raised his fist and tentatively knocked on the hard wood. He hopelessly pleaded that the Dark Lord would have changed his mind about summoning him.

Of course it was a useless wish, when the familiar and chilling voice sounded from within. "Enter."

Knowing the futility of resistance, Draco pushed open the door and entered. Despite it being the middle of summer, the fireplace was lit, throwing light over the Dark Lord's skeletal frame and snake like face. Draco was wise enough to avert his eyes and fall to his knees onto the lush woollen carpet. He did not say anything, but he hoped the meeting would be quick and he could avoid being anywhere near the Dark Lord.

"Have you heard who is down in the dungeon?" The question completely threw him. He did not. He knew people were imprisoned in the dungeon, but he had learned it was easier to not think about them.

"No, Master," he murmured his voice soft, as he tried to hide his uneasiness. He was not looking forward to the direction of the questioning. Nothing that caused those cruel lips to smirk could be pleasant.

"Look at me." The order was cold and firm. Staring at the ground, Draco would have preferred to not look at his Lord, but he knew that his master detested disobedience. It was at least expected to stare upon the hideous face and stare straight into those blood red terrifying eyes. "The girl down in the dungeon is someone you know rather well. Pansy Parkinson."

Draco's jaw automatically clamped shut as his body froze. Truth be told he had been avoiding everyone since he had taken the mark, but Pansy was his friend. Pansy had been the girl he had considered marrying. She had always been there and he could not ever imagine a time when she was not in his life. He knew she was devastated over the loss of her parents, though he could not imagine why she would betray the Dark Lord or give him a reason to imprison her personally.

Knowing the futility of denying the truth, he looked straight into the Dark Lord's eyes and spoke softly but truthfully, "I do, my Lord. I have known her since childhood."

The other man's expression did not twitch. Draco assumed he already knew the information. There was little that he did not know. "Good, then you can deal for her."

His body filled with dread at the phrasing. He knew what it meant but he could not help but question hoping he was wrong. "Deal with her, my Lord?

His lips twitched upwards in brutal smirk. "Miss Parkinson is under the mistaken belief that she can shun her beliefs and her blood and turn traitor. Someone needs to teach her a lesson. Who would be more equipped for that task than someone who already knows her?"

Before Draco could stop himself he spoke in the break between the Dark Lord's words. "But I-"

"Do not interrupt." The words were like the crack of a whip and Draco's body straightened as he waited for an attack. None came. "As I was saying you will enforce her punishment. You are aware of the consequences if you do not. Make her scream and plead."

Draco reluctantly nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

"Good. And one more thing. She thinks you will save her. Shatter that illusion. Make her fear you, and I will consider her punishment complete. You will both live. If not you both shall feel my wrath." His high cold voice trailed off as Draco shuddered. "Now go."

Draco seized the blessed opportunity and bowed low as he fled the room. It was difficult to keep his legs from shaking as he sort out the safety and privacy of his own room. At least he could have a moment's pause before he attempted the impossible.

How could he hurt Pansy?

)o(

Despite the Dark Lord's absence, Pansy did not feel safe. She remained curled in her ball and waited for whoever was going to hurt her. She knew it was inevitable. No matter what she did she was going to suffer excruciating pain and probably be killed.

For hours, those thoughts circulated in her mind as tears streamed down the harsh lines of her face. Nothing stopped it. Even as her head rested on her folded arms and she descended into sleep, her unease and horror continued.

She was only awakened from her uneasy snooze when she heard the hinges of the door. She did not even bother brushing away her tears as she looked up waiting to see scarlet eyes and a green light signalling her death.

None came. Instead she saw a familiar pointed face, slick blonde hair and beautiful grey eyes like precious stones.

"Dra- Draco," she gasped her voice raspy and soft from shock and her previous tears. Somehow her throat stung as if she was about to cry. She battled the feeling and whipped the tears that were already on her face. "Oh thank Merlin, Draco."

He did not look as relieved to see her. In the back of her mind she could see he was uneasy, but she was too relieved to care about that.

He was still quiet as he slowly walked into the room and shut the door behind him. The noise echoed around the dungeon room. She looked straight at him and smiled a little. She waited for him to return the gesture.

He did not.

"Draco?" she repeated insecurity entering her voice as she tried to push her hands behind her to stand. She only half straightened before her movement was abruptly cut off.

She had noticed Draco's wand in his hand and how it quivered slightly but she had not thought much of it; until a scarlet bolt of light had flung out and hit her in the chest. It was like a knife had gone through her stomach replaced by one blade, after another with each stabbing and scrapping her flesh. Pain filled every inch of her and her body seized as her mouth opened in a high pitched horrifying scream.

She had never felt the Cruciatus Curse before. She wished she could have gone through her life without having to. Her throat was raw from screaming but it was eclipsed by the other pain. She just wanted it to end. Even if that meant her death she thought that would have been a good idea. She might have begged for that if she could speak.

Her torture continued for what felt like days, but it was really only a minute. When the curse lifted, she was shaking violently and lying sprawled over the stone floor. Her eyes were closed. It might have been a horrible nightmare if the shudders of pain still did not rack her body. It was so intense that she forgot about who was the cause of her pain and just tried not to cry.

"I have to." The hollowness in Draco's voice made her aching neck twist to stare at him. His face was practically grey and his grey eyes were dark and lacked any light. It was like he was trying to hold something in. "I just have to."

She did not understand. She did not understand why her precious Draco would ever hurt her or why he would ever have to. If she was thinking logically and not suffering from extreme pain, she might have thought he could have been forced by the Dark Lord. Instead her eyes could only leak as she stared at the horror of the boy she still loved.

He raised his wand again and she could not help but beg for what felt like her life. She was not sure if she could survive the terrifying pain. "Please, Draco. Please."

The wand fell slightly and she thought she might have some hope. She thought it might be over. It wasn't. The curse struck again.

She screamed and hollered. She begged and whimpered. She sprawled and she scratched her arms and flesh, hoping that it would alleviate her pain.

Nothing worked.

It was only later, after dozens of curses, when her tortured ended. She did not move. Her face rested on the cold stone and she did not even care that she was bleeding down her arms and her robes were ripped. She did not even care that her Draco had seen her in such a state.

It was the same word she had used, but, like when she had said it, it meant nothing.

"Pansy," he whispered his voice now soft. It could have sounded like he cared but she was sure that was not the case. After torturing her he could never care. "Please."

He tried to touch her but she moved for the first time and flinched way from him in terror. She did not want to get hurt again.

He seemed to abide by her silent plea as he halted, like he had been stunned. He stood gazing down at her with hesitation and hollowness.

Her body ceased up waiting for him to attack again. The silence stretched on and the feeling mounted until it stopped as Draco turned and left.

Pansy did not do anything but let out a relieved sigh.

He could not hurt her anymore.

)o(

Inside Voldemort smirked, his as he withdrew from Parkinson's mind with the memory of her torture successfully extracted. She was terrified. She had assumed Malfoy was her last hope and somehow they could be together if he just helped her out of this situation.

Now she feared him.

It was perfect. Others might have assumed physical pain was the best torture but they were wrong. Emotions were a useful tool, but combing that with obliterating any hope or belief that the future could be rosy was perfect. It was the truth of it. Her punishment was not the Cruciatus Curse but losing her plans for the future and her dreams.

"Release her," he said coldly to Nott who stood by the doorway in his starchy black robes. "Escort her out of the gates and let her go. Her punishment is complete."

The girl hardly smiled. Her eyes which she had quickly drawn back to the ground out of fear were oddly blank.

Even he could not hide his grin as he turned and grinned.

It was all complete.


End file.
